


My Ruin is Heaven Sent and Battle Tested

by ProblematicFavesAreProblematic (SaritaNotSerena)



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Smut, Speirs!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaritaNotSerena/pseuds/ProblematicFavesAreProblematic
Summary: Speirs!Reader and Harry Welsh
Relationships: Harry Welsh/Reader
Kudos: 6





	My Ruin is Heaven Sent and Battle Tested

Harry woke up to you curling yourself around him like you’d done it a hundred thousand times before.

At first he thought he was still dreaming, because- as embarrassing as it was to admit- you were  _ definitely _ becoming a recurring theme in them. He wished he could say that he hadn’t had several dreams that were less than innocent that had begun with this  _ exact _ scenario, but that would be a lie.

And if there was anyone who could sniff out a lie quicker than you, he’d yet to meet them.

“What is it?” he asked through the fog of slumber, willing his senses to get their act together to give him some context clues as to what had brought you to him. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Your chuckle is warm in your chest, burying your cold face into his neck and smiling against his skin.

“In order?” you grumble, your thigh coming up to rest across his hip and tucking your foot behind his knee. “It’s me,  _ I’m _ fine, and I’m fucking cold.”

He blushes despite his lack of full-wakefulness, a weak  _ ‘oh’ _ escaping his throat as he processes your answers. Your hand rests in a soft fist in the middle of his chest, your thumb rubbing tiny crescents against the fabric. It’s been a while since he’s shared a bed with someone, and even longer since he’s shared a bed with a woman.

Not that you were  _ just _ a woman. No, you were nothing less than a force of nature.

From the moment he’d first seen you- soaring down from the sky with your sisters in arms like a fleet of valkyries upon the battle-torn men of the 506, he’d known that he was in trouble. You were war and peace and desire and unattainable glory swathed in army green, and like any true storm you were doom for any man who dared to try and contain you.

When he’d found out you were a Speirs, it only clarified your enigmatic presence further.

Just like your half-brother, you seemed to be built for war- eyes seeming to flash in vengeful delight at each time you fired your weapon at an enemy and a sweet promise of murder in each step you took. 

Even when Kitty had still been in the picture, Harry hadn’t been able to stop himself from admiring you. Within the _ first week  _ of your arrival it had become a running joke that the moment you stepped into Harry’s line of sight he became absolutely useless- something that took him an embarrassingly long time to catch onto because  _ honestly _ ? They weren’t wrong.

You amazed him, in every sense of the word. After a month of knowing you he’d already realized that he’d do almost anything for you if you asked, so when you’d realized that your patrol schedules were the same and you’d proposed the idea of sharing heat as the nights got colder he’d agreed immediately. And for some reason, you’d found his eagerness endearing enough to follow through with your proposal.

It wasn’t your fault that he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around why you’d decided to ask him, yet you took his constant disbelief and wonderment of you in the same graceful stride you seemed to apply to everything you did. If it were anyone else, he’d think you were flirting with him.

But there was no way that would ever happen- not with someone like him.

His thoughts return to the present moment as you layer your thin blanket over his and sigh contentedly as you guide his arm around your shoulders so you can get even closer.

“How are you _ so warm?”  _ your words are quiet and relaxed. “You’re a furnace and it isn’t fair.”

He smiles at that, snorting a light chuckle. “I’m sharing it with you, aren’t I? I’d say I’m being _very_ _fair_.”

“Yes, yes. You’re the image of selflessness and I’m very, very grateful.”

Harry allows himself to imagine a life outside of this for a moment- a life where the two of you are in a real bed with real sheets in a warm house you two could share. No war, no patrols, no Nixon in the corner sleeping off the flask of Vat69 that he’d glugged down like water before bed. Just Harry and Y/N.

He was so head over heels for you, it was embarrassing.

Before he can delve any deeper into that train of thought, the press of your leg across his groin brings something much more, uh,  _ pressing _ to his attention.

He’s  _ hard… _ .completely hard and aching for you.

If there was such a thing as a merciful God, you wouldn’t notice it. You’d slip into whatever fitful sleep you could manage and Harry could save himself the embarrassment of having to deal with the physical declaration of his less than chaste feelings for you. He’d never wished for a random attack before, but he’d willingly take one right now if it meant he could save some face.

Your fingers, which had been started scratch lightly at his chest in a sleepy rhythm, accidentally catch his nipple through the layers of clothes and he nearly jumps from his skin. The action brings you back to alertness and as you went to re-secure yourself around him your knee finds the stiff shame he’d been so desperately trying to will away.

_ Please _ , he thinks and prays to any higher power that will listen.  _ Please don’t let her notice. _

But, there is no such luck.

The day he is able to hide anything from you is the day a man will walk on the moon.

The hand on his chest goes still, and he can feel your breath hitch in your throat as you lay against him. Your thigh, one of the main contributing factors to his current state, is tense as it lays over his cock.

“Welsh, are you—?”

“ _ I’m sorry! _ ” he says in a rushed whisper, his face hot and his heart beating so fast that he prays it explodes just to end his humiliation. “ _ Shit _ , Y/N-  _ I’m, uh, _ I didn’t  _ mean… _ ”

You push yourself up on your elbow and take your face from his neck to look down at him, bringing a hand to his cheek to turn his face back to yours when he tries to look away. 

If God was kind, he’d kill Harry right now. He’d send a flood or a fire or something equally as earth-shattering to save him from this unbearable embarrassment. 

Your face is unreadable, a slight furrow in your brows deepening as your eyes scan his face in a silent study that makes him feel two inches tall. He knows he’s ruined it- he’s ruined any sort of friendship he’d worked so hard to build with you and you’re trying to find some way to break the news to him.

“ _ Is that because of me? _ ”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head at your question, mouth gaping open like some sort of dumb fish as he tries to remember how to do anything other than stare at you in shock.

“I,  _ uh _ ...it’s just—”

Because you’re a better woman than he deserves you save him from his babbling by giving him a slow, sinful smile that only adds to his already searing arousal.

“ _ Harry _ ,” you say softly, the hand on his face stroking his cheek softly under your fingertips. “I asked you a question.”

Your finger trails across his cheekbone and over his brow, your eyes following your finger’s path.

“Is. This. For.  _ Me _ ?”

As you touch your fingers to his lips he can’t help the whimper that escapes the back of his throat. “Or is this just because I woke you up and that’s how it always gets?”

“ _ No _ ,” he gasps, his voice desperate and unrecognizable to his own ears. “It’s...the first one. _ I’m sorry.” _

Your breath washes over his face as you sigh deeply, and it’s only then that he realizes how closely your face is hovering over his. Your lips look full and inviting and when he nervously licks his own he swears he can taste them already.

“Don’t be  _ sorry _ ,” you whisper, turning into him more so he can feel the press of your breasts more solidly against his chest. “ _ Not if you mean it. _ ”

With more courage than he thought he had, he lifts his chin so your lips brush together in a  _ hint _ of a kiss, afraid that he was  _ somehow _ misinterpreting this and that you didn’t  _ truly _ want him. The hand of the arm supporting your weight moves to touch the shell of his ear, the touch soft and making him shiver despite the fire roaring in his chest.

“ _ Can I _ ?’ your question is so quiet he feels it more than he hears it, and he barely begins to nod before you seal your mouth to his and steal the breath from his lungs like you were laying claim to it, your hands coming up to cup his face with delicate and battle-roughened hands.

Harry has kissed women before- not  _ many _ , but enough to consider himself well-versed and confident in his abilities. But  _ this kiss  _ was unlike any other he’d had before.

Maybe it was because he thought so highly of you, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that the two of you had been dancing around each other for so many months now. The more romantic side of himself briefly considered the possibility that all of the past kisses and loves of his life had all been in preparation for _ this very moment, _ but even Harry knew it probably  _ wasn’t _ that.

He hadn’t realized that he’d managed to get your hair free from its braid until he was running his fingers through the strands, the ends of the distinctly feminine locks tickling his cheeks and forearms as you bent over him. He felt absolutely  _ consumed _ by you- the smell of your hair and the taste of your lips and the teasing brush of your breasts against the span of his torso so, so much and yet not nearly enough.

This kiss was soft and heady and if he weren’t already hard he certainly would’ve been by now. The feeling of you rolling your body so you straddled his lap left him  _ reeling _ , using all of his strength to tear his lips away from your kiss to suck down some much-needed swallows of air.

“ _ Shit _ , Y/N….” he nearly groans, your hand coming up to press over his mouth reminding him just in the nick of time that Nix was asleep only a few feet away and libel to wake up at any moment. You grin down at him wickedly, kissing the tip of his nose playfully before cruelly pressing your still clothed sex against his equally contained cock. “ _ Fuck… _ .”

“Poor Harry,” you mouth mockingly, taking your hand from his mouth to give him another soft, quick kiss. “ _ Am I making it worse….? _ ’

When he narrows his eyes you bite back a giggle, shaking your head with amusement. Looking quickly to the side where a snoring Nixon slept -completely oblivious to the debauchery you were teasing Harry with, you seem to pause for a moment. Something flashes in your eyes and when you look back at him he can almost read your mind, he can see  _ exactly _ where your thoughts have gone.

“ _ Y/N— _ ”

“Do you think you could  _ stay quiet _ ?”

The feeling of your hand sneaking between your bodies has him almost quaking with arousal, his eyes going impossibly wide at your insinuation.

“Not if , um- sex. Not if you want me inside, _ dear God _ …”

He trails off as your expression melts into something akin to amusement, tilting your head to the side and considering him carefully.

_ “Harry Welsh, what sort of girl do you take me for? _ ”

You press chaste kisses across his cheeks as your hands deftly unbuckle his belt, lifting yourself from him so you can slip your hand down his pants and cup him through his underwear.

_ Jesus Christ _ you were trying to kill him. You were going to be the  _ death _ of him.

_ But what a way to go. _

Your fingers brush the elastic of his boxers, a shiver of anticipation making his throat feel tight and dry. With a whisper of his name, you redirect his attention back to your face, where a serious look has replaced your smile.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t be upset.” The set of your brows tells him that you’re being sincere, and he closes his eyes in appreciation as your other hand rubs the sensitive lobe of his ear. “ _ I mean it _ . Just tell me and we can go back to before- I won’t do it again, I won’t bring it up, it’s  _ okay— _ ”

“Fuck,  **_no_ ** . I want you to-  _ Please, don’t stop! _ ”

His voice is desperate again, and when you don’t relax your expression he brings a hand around the back of your neck to pull your face down to his again. He feels you give in to the kiss as he licks at the seam of your lips, and when you breath  _ ‘ok’ _ against his mouth he wraps an arm around your waist to grip possessively at your ass.

The first touch of your fingers against his cock almost  _ ruins _ him, his head falling back against his makeshift pillow with a dull  _ thud _ as he nearly loses his mind. His eyes scrunch shut when he nods to your unspoken question of consent, swallowing audibly as he lets his hips buck lightly into your touch. You smile against his cheek as you give it a soft peck, nuzzling your face back into the crook of his neck as you grip him with more authority and run your thumb along the leaking tip of his cock.

You’re quick to establish a rhythm, as if you are just as anxious for him to reach his climax as he is.

_ That’s not right _ he thinks to himself as you move your hand intoxicatingly around him, squeezing and stroking and you’re doing this thing where you drag your nails teasingly on each upstroke that almost has him crying out for mercy.  _ You should be the one coming apart first,  _ **_he_ ** _ should be the one making you feel like this- shouldn’t he? _

He struggles to remember how to move his limbs under your ministrations, somehow managing to smooth his hands up the backs of your thighs and over the curve of your ass- kneading and squeezing at the flesh through the thick material of your trousers. You bite a kiss to his oversensitized skin when he finds the seam of your pants and follows it between your legs to presses at the hottest part of you- a small whimper slipping past his lips at the feeling of you arching your back for him so he can touch more of you.

“ _ Are you close, Sweetheart? _ ” you nearly coo, tongue laving at the tendons of his neck as he opens his mouth in a silent scream. “ _ Are you going to come for me? _ ”

“Fuck,  _ yes _ .  _ Fuck- _ ”

“ _ I wish you were inside me _ ,” you mumble into his ear like a secret, your other hand reaching between you to further his torment. “ _ I bet you’d feel _ **_so good_ ** _ inside of me— _ ”

“ _ Don’t say  _ **_that_ ** _ , shit! _ ” He feels the heat beginning to boil at the base of his spine, and he knows he’s about to come but he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to keep quiet like he promised you he would. “I don’t think I can—”

“You can.  _ You will _ .”

You say it so simply that he feels like you’re reciting a fact. You’ve pulled your face back so you can watch him as he grapples to process the sheer amount of ecstasy you’re making him feel, a lazy smile on your face at the sound of his hitched breathing. Harry knows he’s going to remember this moment until the day he dies- he’s going to remember you.

“Do it.  _ Come _ .”

You probably meant your words as encouragement more than a command, but his blissed-out mind has  _ clearly _ interpreted it as permission because he is  _ gone _ .

He’s vaguely aware of your hand covering his mouth again, but that’s about it because Harry could  _ swear _ that his soul has left his body. His blood is singing with his release and you are whispering words of praise that only seem to make him come  _ harder _ on your hand and his stomach.

“Good boy,” your voice says sweetly as you press your forehead to his and work him through it. “ _ You’re so good for me…. _ ”

When he manages to crack his eyes open once again, he sees that you are sitting up over him and looking so  _ goddamned satisfied with yourself _ he dumbly wonders if he’d somehow managed to make you come just from his half-brained touches. You are a  _ goddess _ , your breath fogging slightly in the cool air of the room as you pant down at him.

“ _ Are you clean? _ ” 

You have to ask it two more times before he processes that you’re asking him a question, and when he nods at you you bring the hand that had just milked the life out of him up to your lips and began to lick it clean. 

Harry has never felt so scandalized in his entire life.

It must show on his face because you smirk down at him as you continue to clean him off of your fingers, your other hand taking the corner of the discarded blanket beside him to wipe the remainder of his spent off of his stomach.

“ _That’s it,_ ” he gasps when you eventually lower yourself beside him again, fitting yourself back into his side as if you _hadn’t_ just turned his mind into mush. “I’m dead. _You_ _killed_ me. You’ve _officially_ killed me.”

You hum at that, helping him pull the blankets back over your bodies with far too much ease.

“Alright, I guess I’ll go back to my room and think about what I’ve done— _ Ow _ !”

You have to bite back a laugh when he prods your ribs with his fingers, smiling into the kiss he presses to your lips. His body feels heavy and his mind is drunk on you. 

With a deep sigh, you pull away from him, reaching over to take the arm farthest from you and pulling at his hand so you can see his watch.

“I have to get up in two hours and you’ve got another three if we hit the hay now.”

Again, the way you say it is so steady and matter of fact that he sees no reason to argue, despite his knowledge that you hadn’t gotten any sort of release from what you’d just done.

“Could you-?” he begins, cutting himself off before he can make a bigger ass of himself. “I mean, would you like to stay? Here, I mean?”

Your eyes are soft in the dark as they find his once more, and after a few moments you nod.

“Yeah, Harry. I think I’d like that very much.”

Harry demands one more kiss from your wicked mouth before wrapping his arms around you and resting his cheek on the top of your hair.

Just like he hoped to when all of this was done, in that warm house of his dreams.


End file.
